I savored his familiar taste for moment, drinking in my youth before jerking my knee up.

He shifted at the last moment and I barely grazed him, earning me a string of curses as he stumbled away, instead of dropping to the ground as planned. “Jesus, Mav! What the hell!”

“I have a life, John. A boyfriend. I’m happy. I don’t hear from you except for phone calls and emails for five years. Five damn years. You cannot just swoop in here and have me dropping my pants five minutes after kidnapping me off the damn street!”

“Mav, I -”

“You decided to end us. You left me here. Then you have a heart attack and die. I go to your funeral and say good-bye forever. Forever! A week later your damn unspecific postcard shows up and I drop everything because I think you might be in serious trouble. I lie to my boyfriend because you said tell no one, and then you stand me up! I label myself all kinds of idiot and leave, only to have you scare the hell out of me by kidnapping me!”

“Look, I di-”

“Tell me what the fuck is going on, John.” The cloak of night brought the courage I needed.

“I never sent you a postcard.”

A Red Dress Club writing prompt

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This week, we want fightin’ words.

Write a piece about a fight. What happened? Why? Who “won”? What were the repercussions?

Show us. Use emotion. Description. If it’s a fist fight, what did it feel like to hit someone – or be hit? What does it feel like to be screamed at – or get the silent treatment?

This can be fiction or non-fiction. Your choice. Word limit is 600 words.

This is still a little rough. A constantly waking sick 19 month has caused a bit of sleep deprivation. Concrit welcomed!

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About Kelly K @ Dances with Chaos

Kelly K has learned the five steps to surviving of motherhood:
1) Don't get mad. Grab your camera. 2) Take a photograph. 3) Blog about it. 4) Laugh. 5) Repeat.
She shares these tales at Dances with Chaos in order to preserve what tiny amount of sanity remains.
You can also find her on her sister blog, Writing with Chaos (www.writingwithchaos.com) sharing memoir and engaging in her true love: fiction writing.
It's cheaper than therapy.

31 Responses to The Alley

OH MY GOD! You can’t do this AGAIN! What is with the cliffhangers? Seriously….

So you’ve got me hooked again. I’m going along with her self defense classes and how she plans to attack. I thought you could have added a little more about how it felt to actually be trying these moves instead of just learning them (how it felt to hit his shoulder, the tension right before you hit someone, the pain in your hand after you do).

I wanted to describe more of the physical sensations. Word count issues. I might flesh it out more later, but this was written in 1-2 minute bursts between running upstairs (between 11 PM and 2:30 AM) to soothe my daughter as the evil cough kept waking her up for the 4th night this week. I may have even nodded off while writing it, so I wasn’t even sure it was coherent.

I wanted more. I wanted to describe the ineffective beating she did on his chest in more detail. It came down to a word count issues. I was hoping for 700 again, not 600. And I’m already over, I was too delirious to cut last night. I need to tighten it up further. Assuming my daughter even naps again (damn cough).

You, my dear, are getting better and better. I LOVE THIS STORY. You had me hanging on every word. The struggle, the realization, the sexual tension, the anger— so palpable and so so GOOD. You would never have guessed that you were writing from two separate prompts— the story was seamless. Can’t wait for the next installment!

I’d love to keep writing. My children have other ideas. The prompts force me to shove excuses to the side and write, so for now, they are a good way to progress. After all, these characters wouldn’t exist if not for a prompt.

Thank you for your words. I wasn’t sure about the dialogue this time. I still think it needs work, to make it better. I need more than 5 hours of sleep a night to look at it….

You did it. This was wonderful.
I read through your comments too. Makes me think you should always write in this delirious state.
2 things I would change, one being a word choice: “damn unspecific postcard.”…I would have used “vague’ or another word. Unspecific is too calm, too dispassionate.
And “cloak of darkness” is cliche (although I’m sure I would have used it too, writing at 3 am!)

LOVED this! Great work again Kelly! I can’t wait to read the next installment. I liked how you flipped back and forth between memories and the present. I happened to love ‘The cloak of night brought the courage I needed.’ And I looove the cliffhanger. Good work,especially since you’re working on so little sleep. Gotta get back to my editing now.

Ack! WHO sent the postcard??!! Kelly, you *are* going to continue this, yes?? I was picturing her in the alley, thinking through the escape scenarios, feeling the push and pull between them (physically, sexually, emotionally).

Love:
“The whites of his eyes floated in the black…”
“The cloak of night brought the courage I needed.”

Wait! I just went back to Stood Up (yes, I’m commenting in reverse, though I did read them in order!) and reread that she stared at the familiar handwriting for the thousandth time (might be a direct quote? trying to remember it exactly). So whoever wrote it took the time to forge his writing?? Now, my curiosity is burning all the more!